Fractures of the Heart
by CTSael
Summary: Under the guise of the Oracle, Magus intends to cling to his family at all costs, even if it means establishing himself at the throne next to his mother. To do that, he'll go through as many time-streams as necessary to find the perfect safe haven.
1. Into Dreaming

He tucked his knees further into his chest as he pulled them closer under his chin. Accompanying him on the bed mattress was his dear cat Alfador, curled up into a tight ball of fur as she slept against his back. Janus took a moment to turn himself around so that he could lightly pet her as she dozed. Her tail flicked once as she dreamed, the motion tickling his palm.

He smiled softly.

A knock at the door snapped the resting animal into full wakefulness, her head shooting upwards to eye the door with annoyance as her tail swished accordingly. Janus called out for the person to enter. As was the most usual case, his sister gently opened the door and regarded him softly with affection.

"Janus, could I borrow this bedroom to change clothes? Mother's having mine refurnished at the moment." She indicated a pile of material tucked under one arm.

Janus nodded slightly. "Sure." He scooped up Alfador, who mewed in protest, and carried her to the door. "I was going to visit the library, anyway."

Schala smiled sweetly as she spoke. "You're such a bookworm."

xxx

As soon as the prince set foot into the library he immediately wished he didn't, but he was well aware how awkward it would appear if he simply walked back out. The recently arrived Oracle who never cared to show his face to the public eye was lounging on one of the lavender-cushioned sofas in an unobtrusive corner towards the back of the library, a faded leather-bound book in his lap. Janus couldn't make out whether or not the man was even paying attention to the book, for his cowl was obscuring so much of his face that it appeared as if he couldn't even see from underneath the fabric.

The prince averted his gaze and continued towards a mahogany table where a compilation of searches he had found the previous evening remained untouched. Slowly lowering himself into a chair, he pulled the topmost volume towards himself and opened the cover. As subtly as he could muster, he gazed out of the corner of his eye at the Prophet, nearly slamming the book shut again in his surprise.

The cowl had slightly shifted, risen just enough to catch a glimpse of brilliant, crimson eyes that glistened with secretive wisdom. And their unwavering gaze was directed solely at him. Innerved, Janus realized that his attention was singularly fixed on the mysterious being, his face turned fully towards the Oracle with an expression of timidity. As if the man could read his thoughts, his eyes carefully softened reassuringly.

The prince disregarded the sign and closed the book with a snap, jumping from his chair to retreat into the hallway. Finally taking notice of his lack of breathing as he ground to a halt just outside the chamber, he expelled it in a huge sigh of relief.

xxx

That night was the very first in which the Seer began to haunt his dreams. The first dream was perhaps the one that would always remain at the forefront of his mind, for he couldn't seem to discern any meaning from it and the frustration of not knowing seemed to put him at constant unease.

_He remained riveted where he stood, unaware of anything other than the soft grass beneath his bare feet which was wet with morning dew and the encompassing fog that seemed impenetrable. No matter how hard he strained, the ominous substance proved impossible to make out anything beyond it. He searched frantically for some sort of path near his feet, but the grass dissolved into the fog a mere pace away from where he was standing. If he tried to feel his way around in that blanket of mist, he would surely only become more lost._

"_Hello?" he called out, hopeful that someone would hear him and come to his aid._

_When there came no reply, he cautiously took a few steps forward and tried again. He still gained no answering call. Reluctantly, he plodded slowly into the mists, his hands immediately stretching out before him as he navigated forward aimlessly._

_Time seemed immeasurable. Whether it was minutes, hours or days, he remained ignorant of the length which he walked. If he traveled far enough, the continent would suddenly give way to open air and he would plummet to his death, he was sure of it. And if the fall didn't kill him, then the ever-present freeze of the blizzard country below surely would if he didn't happen to drown in the ocean._

_A flicker of movement far to his right caught his attention. "Schala?" he wondered aloud. As he made his way closer to the concealed figure he realized that it wasn't his sister, but nevertheless someone dearly familiar. "Mother!" When he finally approached her and tugged impatiently at the material of her dress, she turned to look at him with the eyes of someone depraved and hungry for power, an expression with which he was not familiar._

_He receded a step. "Mother?"_

_The phantasm grinned wickedly, revealing sharpened animalistic fangs. She reached a hand out towards him. "Come join your mother in Lavos' eternal nightmare," she spoke hoarsely, not sounding like her normal self. It was then that he noticed it wasn't her voice at all, but something infinitely more lethal and terrifying which echoed forebodingly through the mists._

"_Mother, what's wrong?" he cried, the terror flooding through him and stinging his eyes with threatening tears. What had happened to her to make her change this way? He wanted his real mother, the one who would have ceased his outbursts in an instant and let him know that everything would be all right._

_But it definitely was not all right. That vicious grin remained plastered upon her delicate lips, curling now into what seemed more of a grimace of fury._

"_NO!" he shouted, stumbling backward several more paces. And as he screamed, so too did the specter of the Queen, but in a bloodcurdling cry that he could not believe such a sound could have emitted from a human's mouth. The screech sounded of what a giant bird might produce had it been strangled to death. _

_Then he noticed the single gleaming red eye just beyond the apparition's back, and gaped in horror at the body of the fiend to which it belonged. The best way he could see fit to describe it was as a massive parasite brandishing an immeasurable amount of spine-like quills that protruded from all over its hulking form. What appeared to be huge claws supported the beast from underneath its bulky weight, seemingly rooted into the earth as if it were feeding from the very core of the world itself. And that's just what it had done to his mother._

_Janus screamed with utter despair and crumpled to his knees, bunching the wet grass between his fists as he sobbed uncontrollably. Was this what his mother was truly doomed to become? Was this what the monster would also make of his home, his own life? Would Schala also succumb to such a horrible fate as this? The questions pooled endlessly into his mind, drowning out all else but the despair to which he clung unreasonably._

_A hand suddenly snatched his collar from behind, dragging him away from the horrific pair only to have his view obstructed by a towering mass of dark material. The hand was no longer tugging at his clothing, but the new shadowy stranger remained. The being turned its head to glance over its shoulder at him, revealing a face shaded by a dark blue cowl. But where a person would normally own a face, this creature instead had a mirror seemingly glued there. Janus could see his own eyes reflected back at him, but the mist quickly fogged up the glass, making the being now appear to be absurdly faceless. It turned back to face the monster and the Queen as it suddenly produced a frighteningly jagged blade from beneath its cloak. The prince didn't recognize it to be a scythe, for he had never seen or heard mention of such a weapon._

_The wraith lunged forward so swiftly that Janus could not follow the movement with his eyes, but he was rewarded with the being's sudden reappearance as it gripped a now blooded blade. The monster cried out accordingly in pain, its voice ringed with malice, before instantly disintegrating into nothingness. His mother blinked, turning to where the parasite had stood with an expression of utter disbelief. Before she could turn back to the hooded creature accusingly, however, it had swept over Janus and blanketed him in darkness._

The prince jolted awake, his whole body rigid from shock. Glancing down at his feet, he recognized Alfador sleeping contentedly. How he wished he could have done just that, still reeling from his nightmare. He brushed a hand over his forehead, feeling the clamminess of his skin due to an apparent cold sweat. With a sigh of fatigue, he rolled onto his side and struggled to regress into a dreamless sleep.

xxx

The next day was one of those rare rainy days in Zeal when the rainfall was particularly heavy and harsh, which refrained people from going outside. After a careful surveying of the library for any hints of the Oracle and finding none, he happily returned to the same mahogany table from the day before to continue his readings. All was so well and silent that even the sleeping Nu behind the checkout counter was miraculously failing to produce any snoring.

He lounged the day away without any thoughts regarding the time, surprised when he finally finished the third book from the pile and glanced up to see that the grandfather clock read ten minutes past ten o' clock at night. It was past his bedtime.

The door creaked open and he turned to look behind him at the visitor, frowning at the familiar man who entered the chamber. Massaging a hand over his tightly-knitted brow, the general shuffled over to a nearby sofa that appeared extremely welcoming to him and slumped down into its orange cushions. He sighed and let himself fall sideways against the pillow near his left elbow, content to just lay there.

Unsure how to respond, the prince wandered over to the man and tapped his shoulder lightly. Dalton glanced up at him, his eyes still groggy from his apparent lack of self-control when offered alcohol. Yet it made him so light-headed that he forgot his usual harsh demeanor, smiling with alcohol-induced enthusiasm at the boy.

Janus was surprised by the action, quickly calculating the exact degree of the general's drunkenness. "Are you alright, sir?"

"I could do without this awful headache," the captain of the guard responded.

"Have you taken any relief medicine?"

The man shook his head. "I ought to do that, shouldn't I? I'll go see to that now." He slowly got back to his feet and headed towards the door, pausing to turn around once his fingers gripped the handle. Dalton grinned at Janus with drunk-induced affection before bothering to turn the knob and exit the room. The prince's brow knitted in confusion at the manner of the general's leave.

A soft laughter startled him into spinning around, and he too would have left the room at that moment once he identified the owner of the voice. On the far side of the chamber was the Oracle, sitting once again on the same lavender-cushioned sofa. How he had gotten there was a mystery to the prince, for he had never noticed anyone enter the room aside from Dalton. Had the man been there the whole time? He dwelt on that thought for a moment, then dismissively shook his head. He had searched the back of the library as soon as he had entered the chamber himself. But this time the Seer was watching him far more intently than the previous day, not even bothering to disguise his actions with an old historical text as he had before.

"Isn't it past your bedtime?" the Oracle whispered, his face impassive.

Janus was annoyed that the man was obviously there to pester him. "So? What if it is?"

"No matter. I won't tell your sister, if that's what you're thinking. The party will last until way after midnight," he spoke with a smile. "I'm sure you'd rather stay awake and read?"

Janus nodded fiercely.

"Well then, I guess I'll be on my way."

"Hey," Janus suddenly interrupted. "You weren't invited?"

"Of course I was. I prefer being left alone instead… Wouldn't you agree?"

More slowly this time, Janus nodded again.

"Then I suppose it's best if I leave you alone?"

Janus tipped his face to the side calculatingly, regarding the stranger in a new light. "You don't want to be alone right now, do you?"

The Prophet remained silent for a heavy pause. When he did speak again, he surprised the young prince with his answer. "I've always been surrounded by crowds my entire life, but never anyone whom I could connect with to any comfortable degree. In a way, I've always been on my own."

Janus couldn't resist making a link from that statement to himself, wondering at the man's choice of words. It sounded identical to the way he considered his own being, but then he had Schala where this man had no one. For some odd reason, that alone made him want to reach out and touch this similar person's life; to make that connection which the other was so desperately yearning for.

Hesitantly, he continued the conversation. "Do you wish to remain alone?"

He thought he imagined the pleading expression that momentarily flickered across the Oracle's countenance. Illusion or not, it encouraged him to keep talking.

"You want to stay in the library and accompany me?"

He hadn't the slightest clue as to why he concluded with that question.

Nevertheless, the Seer cautiously stood from the sofa and glided slowly, waveringly, towards the royal. When Janus didn't make to object, he carefully lowered himself onto the orange-clad cushions which Dalton had recently occupied, sitting next to the standing prince.

"I need someone to confide in – someone I can trust," the Prophet said. "I've been through some harsh times lately."

Janus impulsively laid a hand on top of the Oracle's, which rested next to him on the sofa. "Do you want me to be that someone?"

The man smiled contritely. "It's too much to ask of a child to rise to my expectations."

"If you don't want me to be your friend, you shouldn't have come in here with the implications in the first place."

The Seer appeared astonished at the boy's words, which deeply gratified the prince's objective with that statement. He grinned at the man, waiting for a response.

"…We can talk about it another time," the man spoke, uncomfortable with the child's sudden closeness and confidence. He rose from his seat and strode toward the door. "And keep a close eye on your mother. She's been acting odd as of lately," he quickly added before turning the handle and disappearing into the hallway.

"Wait!" Janus cried. He rushed over to the door, wrenching it open, and found himself alone in the dimly lit corridor. What the Prophet had just spoken of had stabbed deep into his consciousness as he was forced to recount the horrible details of that nightmare.

xxx

And indeed he did watch his mother very closely, closer than he was comfortable or used to doing. Throughout the procession of the following week, he wound around corners, silently observed council meetings at which he shouldn't have attended, slipped into her private chambers; all because he was at great unease with his unnatural dream. If anything, these observations impressed a new vision of terror upon the queen's son in regards to his mother. Her crazed drinking habits late into the occasional night landed him with plenty of sleepless hours in which, had he been in his bed like any child with common sense, would have plagued him with even more unaccountable nightmares.

During the day her eyes constantly gleamed with a demented flare, and every night as part of some disturbing new ritual, she would make the short trip from the throne room to the Mammon hall. In this said ritual, she always pulled a chair up close to the mechanism with its throbbing pulsations of scarlet light and would lean her entire upper frame across the main panel, as if in a frightening parody of laying next to a lover. Sometimes she would close her eyes and murmur strange words to the machine, other times they remained open and she simply lay with a wicked grin plastered on her face.

It was this machine that had so wholly changed her, the prince was certain. It was the prototype that had been completed only three weeks prior, and he wondered now if she had acted in this manner since its completion. Some whispered gossip suggested that it had immediately changed her overnight.

As his initial nightmare was coming more and more into fruition, the progressively worse his latest nightmares became. Each dream added one more worsening scene than the previous one, yet the people in this chain of sequences remained the same – his mother, the monster, and the cloaked figure with the mask whom he now suspected to be a not yet fully understood representation of the Prophet.

_Maybe, _he wondered constantly, _if I get to know him better, I might be able to understand my dream._ Though he wasn't entirely certain of the dream being's identity, the feeling that it was somehow the Prophet encouraged him to attempt to reach out for an earnest friendship for the very first time in his young life.

xxx

Schala glanced at Janus inquiringly as he hummed contentedly to himself on one of the sofas in the royal commons. He lay sprawled over one of the orange velvet pillows and stared unseeingly into the blazing fireplace, musing inwardly as he debated the mental battle raging through the forefront of his mind.

"Janus? What's gotten you into such cheerful spirits lately? It's late, and you should have been in bed forty minutes ago."

Irritated at being interrupted from his train of thought, he simply cast his sister an assuring smile and remained motionless.

Sighing exasperatedly, Schala rose from her seat by the mantle and plodded into the back hallway, watching him wonderingly from over her shoulder. "I'm going to bed, Janus. You should do likewise."

"Sure, whatever. I'll be there in a bit. I just want to lay here a little longer." To all extents and purposes, her retiring into her bed chamber was exactly what he was waiting for.

Once she had vanished over the threshold and closed the door to her room, Janus rose onto his elbows and momentarily stared at the spot where she had disappeared, suspicious that she might step out again. After mentally counting a full sixty seconds, he lifted himself from the pillow and tiptoed to the outer door of the commons, still fully-dressed from the eventless day. Carefully sliding the lock out of place and exiting the chamber, he made sure to close the door behind himself before darting down the corridor with anticipation.


	2. Unintentional Reflections

_It's surprising that it's been so many years already_, Magus mentally whispered to himself as he lay stretched out on his bed in the royal guest chambers. His cloak was deposited onto the floor in a dark, crumpled mess, he being too ensorcelled in his thoughts to bother putting it away in the closet. Instead, the privilege of occupying that space had been given to his most reliable of weapons, his beloved Hurricane scythe.

But, as he lay there on the queen-sized mattress, his thoughts delineated more his memories in the Middle Ages. _Funny_, he mused,_ that there are even memories to be had of a time that is not yet existent in this sky kingdom_. Then, turning to more mundane and idle thoughts, he wondered:_ I wonder how all of those pathetic miscreants are holding up without me. The fortress might as well have been raided and ransacked by humans, what with Ozzie's terrible oversleeping habit. The fool's ignorance will soon be his downfall if it hasn't already._ At this, he found the mental scenario it invoked so ridiculously comical that he didn't bother restraining a bit of genuine laughter.

He wiped away the tears that pricked at his crimson eyes with a clawed finger, so used to the notion of not scarring himself that he wasn't even cautious about holding the sharpened nail in such close proximity to such a vulnerable place. After taking a moment to regain himself, he suddenly fancied the idea of pacing the gardens at such late hours and lazily reached over the side of the bed for his cloak.

Instead his fingers sank into something soft and warm that was definitely not the heavy clothing article. Immediately tensing with suspicion, he played his fingers across the mystery object until he felt the undoubted beating of life on its underside. Resisting to make a startled outburst, he bolted upright onto his knees and stared over the mattress's edge at the creature whose identity he was now most certain of.

A loud, cheerful mewl escaped the animal's furry lips and it landed silently on the bed with a graceful leap. Magus simply stammered in surprise, "A-A-Alfador?" He threw his legs over the side of the bed and placed his forehead into his palm to regain his bearings.

His feline familiar meowed again and unwaveringly padded over to his side, watching him as she kneaded his thigh for permission to crawl up. When he made no signs of objection, she happily clambered onto his lap and circled once, twice, thrice before settling herself comfortably.

Magus released his face and glanced down at the animal. A strange thought struck him just then. This was the "second" Zeal Kingdom's Alfador; she was still a kitten, belonging to the younger Janus. Then what had happened to his Alfador, the one who had refused to follow him through that Gate of so many years past? The dreadful idea that she had not survived the downfall was too painful for him to consider — instead his mind clouded with the forlorn hope that she must have survived. She was, after all, a very intelligent and spontaneous creature. She must have found a way to survive; probably now tagging along at the heels of one of the few who had managed to survive and flourish the later generations with restoration. But here was a part of her that did not know that fateful opportunity to die, a part that had not yet experienced the horrible events of her near future.

The feline now regarded him with her flawless, emerald eyes, as if perfect gemstones had been placed into her tiny skull. They were cast in the dark glimmer of the low lighting, yet they shone brilliantly like roving floodlights. Magus smiled wryly and brushed his fingers through her pale fur, Alfador slowly closing her eyes in contentment at the familiar-yet-strange hands that caressed her ears, her back and her tail. Where is the other Alfador now, and is it possible for me to reach her? The thought of reencountering his true companion, the one who had stuck with him through so many of his childhood hardships, caused a deluge of nostalgic tears that he could not bring himself to restrain.

With a silent farewell that the kitten understood well enough from her "younger" master's withdrawals of depression, Alfador hopped down from the Fiendlord's lap and trotted back through the slightly ajar bedchamber door. Standing and approaching the doorway, Magus peered out just in time to see a silvery tail disappear around the bend in the corridor. He wanted to make sure that the animal had not reconsidered leaving before closing the iron door bearing the Zeal crest in finality.


	3. Illumination

He wanted nothing more than to regress back into sleep just then when a soft knock sounded at the door to his bedchamber. He hesitated, aggravated that someone should interrupt the few hours he had to rest before having to return early to assist his mother. Waiting, he heard it again less than five minutes later. He wondered if he should just ignore the person and turn over onto his other side to sleep so that his back would face the door and somewhat diminish the impulse to shout at whoever it was to leave him in peace. But there was a change in the sound's mannerism as he contemplated this idea.

He blinked. _Surely not?_

Then it came a second time – scratching, like a cat trying to get into the room.

The Fiendlord started for a moment, hoping that his deduction wasn't what he thought it to be. Slowly, he eased himself from the mattress and donned his cloak, unusually aware of the thickness of the canopy of shadows that he concealed his face with. Making sure they were dark enough, he jerked the cowl further down and laced them with a bit of sorcery to be certain of himself before wandering over to the iron door. After a deliberate pause, he finally opened it.

And he wasn't disappointed.

Standing before him, face barely level with his waist, was the young prince. Alfador wound herself through the boy's legs, her eyes also looking up at the Oracle. She meowed softly yet enthusiastically upon greeting him again.

Magus swore under his breath.

He scrutinized the child, emphasizing with his expression that his sleep had just been disrupted in the hopes that the kid would take the hint and wait to bother him until later in the morning. He was drawing on every ounce of willpower to not scream at the boy to get the fuck out of his room, which would have likely happened if he were back in the Middle Ages and not have to care about letting his tiredness take the better of his senses.

The prince stared searchingly up into his shadowed eyes. Magus knew him to be waiting for some sort of reaction. _Hrm. How am I to handle this without losing my sense of being a responsible adult? Dammit, I want to hurry this up and dive back into bed!_ Nothing could have gratified him more at that moment than to smack the kid and shout at him at him to leave. But he did not.

He wasn't willing to negatively effect the prince's impressions of him. Not when the final moments of their last encounter had held that final promise of "talking another time". Working around the frustration that his half-awake state had imposed, he forced a polite smile to his lips and greeted the late-night visitor.

"Awake at such a late hour, your grace?" the Fiendlord whispered. "What brings you down here in the middle of the night?"

Janus tried to tint his smile with false amusement, despite not being quite so practiced as the Prophet from observing the man so many times before from a distance. He knew it surely wouldn't have much affect on someone who was learned in deciphering such subtle verbal cues.

The Mystic chuckled at the boy's almost accurate attempt. "Only so many people here can pull that off. You've just about got it," he began to slide into comfortable conversation. "Is there something you're looking for that simply can't wait until morning?"

"I've had something on my mind that's been plaguing me for a while now. I want to express it to someone who will listen with more of an open mind than my sister; she's been kind of worried about me lately and I don't want to cause her disturbances."

Magus regarded his younger counterpart with mild curiosity. "Come in and make yourself comfortable. I'll probably know of something that might help. I've done this so many times already." _Although it hasn't always been willing. There's so much blathering from the mundane critters in the Middle Ages that I would rather not hear._

"Really? Because I have so many questions that I need answered." The prince looked up at Magus hopefully as he scooted around the man to enter the chamber. He glanced around the room with interest. "Don't you keep any belongings?" he wondered at the barrenness.

"In the closet. What sort of problems do you want to talk about?" The Fiendlord almost snatched the boy away in alarm when Janus absent-mindedly flung open the entryway to the walk-in space. He watched apprehensively as the child froze in mid-stride.

"Um… W-What is this thing?" Janus began backing slowly away from the intimidating weapon. A glimmer of fear sparked in his radiant, violet eyes as his face whipped around to the Seer for some sort of explanation.

"That? That's my scythe," Magus stated matter-of-factly. "I assure you, it has never left that spot since I arrived here. There's no need for it in such a place as this, but it's also the most trustworthy of weapons I have ever possessed. I won't go anywhere without it if I feel there's not a safe place to keep it."

"Scythe? Why have I never come across any mention of one in the library's texts?"

The Mystic flinched. _Because they weren't crafted until very far into your future._ But he wouldn't dare to give such a ludicrous statement. Not unless he wanted to uproot the very foundation that had landed him back in his true home's timeline. And he wasn't sure he wanted to cross that hazard. Instead, he simply replied, "There is plenty about me that you would never find in any forms of text." _Unless you lived past 600 A.D._

Janus, however, brightened at the words. "Could you tell me?"

The Mystic cast him a furtive smile, saying nothing. Instead, Magus slowly made his way over to the queen-sized bed and eased himself down, contemplating how to weave answers through the imminently approaching conversation. There were so many ways in which he could slip up that he began to consider not speaking at all and send the boy back to his own chambers. Not knowing what stubbornness drove him that he should feel so indignant at this mere thought, he gazed fixedly at his companion with the utmost patience, startling himself with his actions.

Janus took that as the hint that he should speak first. He fumbled to find the right words to say. "Um… So I've been having a recurring dream that has been bothering me of lately."

The Fiendlord remained silent, yet an attentive glimmer that laced his red-violet eyes urged for his younger counterpart to continue.

The prince understood the subtle cue and projected himself with slightly more confidence. "In the dream, I always begin in the midst of a heavy fog. There are no signs that indicate where I am farther than several feet, and all I can make out is grass. So I could practically be anywhere on the sky continent."

"Or if you're even in the kingdom at all," Magus suggested. "Does anything in the dream signify that you're definitely here in your home country?"

The prince bit his lower lip as he shuffled through the nightmare's progressive scenes. "I'm not sure. There are people later in the dream who are from the kingdom. But that does nothing to imply the whereabouts of the setting."

"True. Forgive me for interrupting and please continue."

"Well, I can't figure out where I am if I stand still to think it over, so I start walking. I don't know the duration of this trek. It could be only minutes, yet it seems like hours. After so long when I'm desperately out of breath, I finally see the shadow of a person. Being so worn out and tired, I start toward the person and begin calling out the names of people I know, hoping it's someone familiar. I wouldn't have cared even if it was the lousy captain of the guard, so long as I recognized the person.

"I notice something peculiar about the hair, and I immediately feel like crying with relief because I know it to belong to Mother. So I reach for her skirts to get her attention and she looks over at me. But she has this strange feel about her, like she's changed somehow. I step back because she has this mad look upon her face. She beckons me and says to join her in eternal wrath, which completely confuses me. What's more, her voice doesn't sound like her normal self. When I step further away and reject her offer, she screams this awful noise that has no human quality about it."

The Fiendlord thought he knew what was coming, raising a hand as he shook his head in moderate disbelief. Damn, the kid should have very well been an oracle with this terrible dream of his, he mused wryly to himself. The boy subconsciously knew the horror that was inextricably twined around his homeland's fate.

"Yes?" Janus wondered why he was being asked to stop. "Did I say something wrong?"

Magus finally looked up again and withdrew his hand from its poise. "Has this dream— nightmare, excuse me— affected your hours awake in any manner? Other than disturb your thoughts?"

"I don't mean to sound rude, but I'll get to that when I finish explaining," the prince answered. "May I continue?"

"By all means. I apologize for my continuous interjections."

"Okay. So, as I had just said, she utters this terrible cry that doesn't sound at all human. It sounded like… maybe as a giant bird might if having been strangled to death. I don't know how else to describe it. It's such a gut-wrenching sound that I swear I must clench expectantly in my sleep as I'm forced to recall it again."

"Truly, I apologize most sincerely for interrupting yet again, but there is a sound that I'm quite familiar with that does sound as such."

Janus' fine features drained of their usual pale complexion, causing the prince to seem even more spectral-like. His own hands clenched at his sides, only then noticing how clammy they were. All he could think was that anything that produced such a noise must be beyond frightening if its voice was so capable of eliciting such powerful responses of fear and despair in all who might hear it. Swallowing his reluctance, he nodded decisively for Prophet to give his answer.

"Lavos."

Try as he might to have hidden it, a whimper softly escaped Janus' throat. He wanted to wretch as most of the nightmare's pieces suddenly fit together so perfectly in his mind. The Queen's obsession with the Mammon Machine almost rivaled that of which she expended on her powerful deity. He had never thought that the mechanism that radiated such cruel design was actually like a conduit that directly connected to Lavos. That must have been why she glorified herself in its presence every night. Somehow, basking in its red pulsations transferred Lavos' power into his mother.

She was _feeding_ on Lavos' energy.

The throbbing of the scarlet lights was much like an observational display of a heartbeat. That analogy instantly sickened him, and his legs slightly wavered at the prospect. The Oracle didn't miss the brief opportunity to notice the change in the child's demeanor, immediately hoisting himself from the mattress to kneel down before Janus. The prince's eyes had become glassy, distant as if in an out-of-body experience. Not sure what he could do for the boy, Magus gingerly lifted his companion into his arms and touched his fingers to Janus' face. The skin was icy, almost seemingly unrealistic in its frigidity.

Alarmed, he rushed the prince out of his chamber and hurried down the corridor at a run. As much as he wanted to help the child by hearing out that awful nightmare, he was more greatly pressed to help see to the boy's health.


	4. Situational Management

Janus woke to the brilliance of the sun's rays blasting him full in the face as someone in the room jerked the curtains open. A hand immediately rose to shield his eyes as he creaked them open to glance at the person at the window. After a bit of mumbling, he managed to formulate a few words. "Um… Schala, is that you?" He couldn't make out but a silhouette in the brightness that filled his bed chamber.

The figure turned to him and he was rewarded with the familiar sight of his sister's face wrinkled with worry. He really wished she wouldn't make such expressions all the time, convinced that it would permanently affect her fine features. Yet he brushed off his silent musings and smiled in greeting.

"Morning," he managed to voice more clearly.

Schala didn't respond right away, which bothered him since she was always so quick to answer anyone, more so especially for her younger brother. Her brow remained furrowed as she regarded him, her luminous violet eyes narrowed seemingly with pain. She took her time in eventually broadcasting what must have been bothering her. "What were you doing out of your room so late last night?"

Janus tried his best to not outwardly react to her words. How had she known?

"He was trying not to work me into a panic, I know he was."

Her brother blinked in confusion.

"I woke because I heard someone rustling around and thought it was just Mother coming in late from another drinking bout, so I got out of bed thinking to say goodnight. But instead there were attendants scurrying in and out of your chamber saying you had been out of your room and had been found sick in the royal guest chambers! Janus, you know how much I worry about you already. Please, don't keep scaring me like this. I don't think I could take very much of it if you did."

"But I'm alright, Schala. I feel fine," the prince protested ineffectively. He knew his words would never cease his sister's constant worries. "I was just wanting some company and you were already fast asleep."

"Then how did you become sick?" she demanded, all the while keeping her tone light.

Janus paused to ponder the previous night's events, again feeling a horrible wrenching in his stomach as the reminder of Lavos hit him hard. He decided it best to hide the truth since it would only reinforce Schala's misgivings. "I was just thinking too much that I ended up overwhelming myself."

"About what?" Her eyes locked fixedly onto his.

But then again, some truth might not hurt when it was already general knowledge. "About Mother having changed so much."

Schala was fighting back tears now. "But they said you had actually fainted!"

"Who did?"

"Everyone who knew what had happened last night. Apparently…" She trailed off as her mind continued to wander for her. "I'm going to find out what really happened!" she suddenly stated in resolution. "Maybe Prophet will tell me. He was the first one to alert anybody." She bounced off the edge of the mattress where she had settled and disappeared with a flash of her richly flowing cerulean hair.

Janus stared horrorstruck at the open doorway from which his sister had just left. Surely Prophet wouldn't mention anything relevantly secret between the two of them? Just the tiniest mention that the prince was having nightmares would send Schala off the edge.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Toast, your Majesty?" an attendant inquired at the queen's elbow.

The monarch waved a hand dismissively at the sliced loaf on the platter that the girl held. The waitress lowered her face in acknowledgement and briskly trotted back into the kitchens. With her face resting in a hand propped against the table by her elbow and the other tracing fingers around the rim of her empty breakfast glass, Alvira Zeal was slowly idling away the morning hours lost in thought. Her eyes were fixed upon her chalice unseeingly until the twin iron doors suddenly swung open with resounding echoes as they banged back against the walls.

Startled, she narrowed her eyes accusingly at the disruptor. "Quell that anger of yours so early in the morning! Act like you truly have the dignity that your position retains!" She glared down upon the general commander in the likeliness that she was readying to squash him like a cockroach.

"Your Majesty, control that beast of yours before he works the Priesthood into a panicked frenzy! He's scaring them with some rubbish late-night story of his own creation. They're dragging along at his heels screaming, 'Oh, Merciful Entity save you!'"

"Beast? …oh, you mean _him_." She worked around the bark of sarcasm that she was urging to release. "Surely he's just bored."

"You allow that devil to express his boredom in such a manner? He'll have the entire kingdom sparking unnecessary rumors before the day is through!"

"Now, now, Dalton. Temper your spirits, why don't you? Wine?" She reached across her cleaned plate for a half-empty glass bottle.

"Majesty, I think you should really not avoid the situation currently at hand. He's your own child, for Entity's sake!" The man was steaming with frustration that he did not hold his own influence over the boy, otherwise he would have readily broken the child down like one of his novice soldiers. "I implore of you, teach him some proper manners if he is to one day wear the crown himself."

The queen wore a menacing, half-crooked smile as the colonel took his leave with another abusing of the twin doors. "That's my son," she whispered slowly to herself with glee. "Doing what he should at his age. So long as he works Dalton into a sound fit, amusement will never fade from this day to day life."


	5. Friendship

"Janus! Where are you? Janus?" Schala descended the long flight of steps from the royal bedchambers to glance around the corridor for her brother's whereabouts. He had not been in the library when she had last checked, nor in the kitchens on one of his pantry raids. The bedrooms were empty, as was the throne room where he liked to sneak inside to listen in on current event meetings.

There was even a brief instance where she had imagined seeing Alfador roaming through the hallway of the royal guest chambers, but upon hopeful investigation only discovered it to be one of the ordinary palace cats stalking a mouse. Knowing that Alfador was the only exception to the rule that no animals were allowed inside the castle's interior, she had snatched the surprised feline from behind and carried it out into the gardens to place it in its proper environment. But this… this was just plain ridiculous! Janus was nowhere to be found. Then a possibility suddenly came to her: maybe he was harassing one of the Gurus like he did on occasion.

If he were with Gaspar, it would have been in the library to pester him into relenting a new book for the prince's enjoyment. She mentally scratched that off her list; she had just checked the library moments ago. Belthasar? Certainly not. Janus hated the lengths to which that old geezer prattled on in what seemed to always be deciphered as mere gibberish. It was a definite fact that Janus hated most forms of machinery, the exception being certain cooking utensils. That left Melchior, but the man had taken ill a week ago and stubbornly remained in his bed since then. Schala highly doubted that Janus would want to bother someone who was sick. The boy was almost obsessive in the manner of which he avoided anyone with the suggesting symptoms of illnesses.

So then where was he?

Backtracking, she made her way again to the corridor of the royal guest chambers where she had found the closest of anything pertaining to a possible lead. Sure, the cat she had discovered had been confirmed to be all white, but she could have sworn seeing the familiar swish of a grey tail the very instant before. Perhaps she had walked by an open door or passageway and failed to take notice of it with her focus on finding her brother's cat. If she could only find Alfador, then Janus would undoubtedly be within the same vicinity. He never went anywhere without her close to his side.

Here, the same hallway as before. She had finally located it again. But where were the elusive pair she was so desperately searching for?

"Great, he may as well have disappeared off the face of the earth at this rate." Frustrated now beyond measure, she huffed indignantly and swung around to leave when she thought she heard a distinctive sound. Her ears immediately perked attentively. _Was that… Janus?_ Not wanting to seem too hopeful, seeing as how that had turned out the first time, she crept silently from door to door, pressing her ear to the door panels each in turn.

There, again. It was someone laughing. And it was coming from directly across the hall from where she now stood. The princess was struck with bewilderment, first, because Janus rarely ever laughed, and second, because the door behind which it had emitted was the entryway to the Oracle's chambers. Cautiously, she approached the door to confirm her suspicions just as a loud meow rang out in full clarity from within the chamber. She was only becoming more and more confused with each passing second. Janus? And Prophet? Since when? She had never known her brother to take a liking to anyone save for her and Alfador. His relationship with Gaspar was nothing more than a mutual tolerance since the elderly man shared the prince's affinity for books. It just didn't seem to make any sense; Janus had always admitted to being intimidated by the dark stranger. As much as she suddenly wanted the answers to these new questions, she knew when to act as a princess and remain tactful. It wasn't her place to pry if her brother would say nothing on the matter, as much as he nevertheless constantly worried her. But the notion of her brother suddenly taking an active interest in the Oracle certainly piqued her curiosity greatly.

Restraining her desire to call out and let him know she was there, she simply withdrew from the corridor in silence to muse over her findings.

xxxxx

"Hey, Schala! I want to tell you something."

Startled, the princess whipped around in her seat on one of the sofas in the lounge of the royal commons. "Oh, Janus! There you are. I've been wondering all day where you'd disappeared to. What's the matter?"

"Nothing's wrong. I was just finding new ways to entertain myself."

_You certainly have if it's making you laugh so much_. But she kept this comment to herself, not wanting him to know that she had been hovering over him as was always her habit. "So, what did you find?" she asked nonchalantly.

"I found a new toy for Alfador." His grin was wide as he lifted an object into view from within a pocket of his violet robes. "Isn't it neat? It's a rubber ball made into a mini replica of a clock face."

"Where'd you get it?" She still pretended not to know, although the subject of cat toys had certainly come unexpectedly for her.

"Um… It was left forgotten in a corner while I was walking through Kajar. No one seemed to notice it was there, and no one claimed it when I asked around, either. So I kept it for Alfador."

"It sure looks pretty clean for something that has been neglected in a dusty corner," she remarked with a soft smile.

"I cleaned it!" Janus answered very quickly.

Apparently, he was refusing to admit to the truth of his whereabouts, she concluded. "Well, you're certainly keeping better care of it than its original owner already. You seem quite proud to have found it."

"Of course I am. Alfador's current toy has claw punctures all over it and needs to be thrown out anyway." With a snort of triumph, Janus vanished into his bedchamber.


	6. Impending Tide

Alvira Zeal was surprised upon taking notice of the optimistic mood in her darker companion as she sat fiddling with her napkin after the evening meal that night. Watching him with a slight tint of humor, she often wondered at the impassivity of his countenance as he stood silently next to her seat during meals, never speaking unless directly addressed, and even then would react as if he had just been grudgingly pulled back from some distant place in which he'd rather be.

He smiled wryly and cast her a sideways glance at realizing that he was being watched. "Is there something you would like to ask me?"

She started to shake her head, but then reconsidered halfway through the act and nodded instead. "You seem to be in better spirits than usual tonight, Prophet. I'm just curious about whether something might have happened today or not."

"No… not really. Just getting more acquainted with the kingdom, nothing more."

"Have you yet gotten acquainted with the Gurus like I recommended?"

"Sort of. I'm on regular talking terms with the three of them, to say the least."

"Oh, good. But you still refuse to associate with the nobles?"

"They're obnoxious, and they try to hover over everyone. How could I not?"

"Gossip has always been one of their favorite hobbies, and seeing as how you avoid them like the plague, they don't really know what to think of you. I suppose it's better that way, but you know you can't prevent people from at least wondering. You're always adamant about keeping yourself in the shadows."

"I'd like to keep it that way, with an exception here and there."

"You mean the Gurus?"

"Them, too."

"And who else?"

The Seer immediately clamped his mouth shut, knowing he had said too much already. He rather enjoyed keeping secret his new affiliation to the youngest royal. And Janus seemed to prefer it as well. "Sorry, my mind had slipped back to a different time. I was thinking of a past friend of mine." The thoughts of his lost feline companion had crossed his mind again. He just couldn't restrain his fascination at the aspect of there being two Alfadors, just as he was with Janus. And quite oddly, interacting with the youth didn't seem to be affecting him in any way - other than keeping him unusually contented, allowing himself to re-live his past a bit. "If your majesty has no immediate need of me, and with your permission, I will now take leave to my chambers."

"Plans?"

"No, just typical musings."

"I see. Well, then by all means."

"Thank you, your majesty." He stole a quick glance at the clock at the front of the great room before vanishing through the twin doors.

xxxxxxxxxx

He wandered amidst the confusion so suddenly that it took him several moments to digest the scene before him. Crouched in the middle of the hallway leading to the royal chambers were two similar forms and a third furry one - the royal siblings and one cat companion. Reluctant to make his presence known, he sidled against the wall to shroud himself within its shadows.

From what he could see, Schala had her hands positioned to snatch something from her brother, who shielded whatever he had by placing himself between her and the object of focus. Janus wore a mask of great determination on his face, apparently not at all willing to let go whatever it was that he held. Magus tilted his head, wondering what Janus had found.

"Janus." Schala made no attempt whatsoever to hide the fierce demand in her speech. This was an extremely rare sight for both the prince and his darker counterpart; Schala almost never flared with such anger, her normally frail and meek personality only making it all the more astonishing. "You shouldn't keep a strange object that you find when you know absolutely nothing about any dangerous potential it may have. Now give it here so that we may take it to the Gurus to be looked at. They're the authorities on these sorts of odd things. Know that I am only looking out for your safety and well-being as your older sister. I only have your best interests at heart."

Now his curiosity was piqued to full attentiveness. What on earth was going on here? What exactly _was_ the damn object that was being so fussed over?

"I am going to have it looked at," Janus defended. "I'm not on such friendly terms with the Gurus. I want to give it to someone I can trust."

"But that's the issue. You don't trust anyone outside of the family."

"Well, I'm certainly not at all inclined to give it to Mother. She's become so different that I hardly recognize her at all anymore, and it scares me." Tears were quickly welling in the corners of his eyes. "Please tell me you know something that I don't, Schala. You normally connect better with her than I do. I… I want to be able to love Mother again, but I find it impossible. Nowadays she only frightens me." He furiously wiped at the streaks on his face with his free hand, the other deftly concealing the mystery object within his robes while Schala still concentrated on his face.

"Janus… If this is what has been bothering you lately, you really shouldn't worry about keeping it secret from me. I only understand it as much as you do." Her own tears were beginning to threaten, her attention losing the situation at hand to fully worry for her brother. Without speaking any further, she reached for him and pulled him into a desperate embrace, both siblings with their tears now unchecked.

Such uncertain future was a prospect that anyone would find terrifying, and neither of them knew it quite as well as their silent, secret companion. Magus' own eyes narrowed in the sharing of their pain, yet he did not cry. It wouldn't come to him so easily as it used to. His time travels had given him more than a fair share of shocks and surprising revelations that he hardly reacted to them anymore. His emotions had regressed to near nonexistence, which was the very thing that allowed him to stare out at the world now with such impassivity. He had hollowed out in his years as Fiendlord, otherwise he would have recoiled in disgust at himself for all the atrocious acts that he had then committed. Seeing now that these things were striking much closer to his home, just maybe, he thought, he could find the strength to return to humanity.

Yet at the current late hour and viewing the state that the pair before him was in, he wished nothing more than to immediately shut it all out and return to that barren emptiness. It was his only form of self-consolation anymore. Addressing the situation as it now was, he decided to dismiss it entirely and crept back to the royal guest chambers.

* * *

Sorry, that it's taking so long to update! Family, school, work, you name it. They've all gotten me busy, and I keep getting distracted from this fanfic with other projects. I know it sounds like excuses, and I'm also aware of the shortness of this chapter. -.- I have a few more chapters finished, but I'm going to hold onto them for a bit more revising. I'll spread them out and post them in the coming months.


	7. The Wheel Slowly Begins to Turn

Janus picked at a loose thread in the hem of his collar as he lay bored on his bed. Rain pelted fiercely at the windows, which was keeping everyone in the palace from going anywhere for the time being. With more people indoors, being out in the corridors would be bothersome and loud dealing with the nobles.

It took him a while before he suddenly brightened up at a thought and quickly sat up, which startled Alfador who sat at his elbow. She meowed in protest, not knowing what had come over her master all of a sudden. Janus stood from the mattress and wandered over to his dresser, opening the bottom drawer and fishing through its contents with his hands. His fingers brushed against a firm object, which he immediately grabbed and pulled out into clear view.

He still had no idea what the item was, turning it in his hands to view it from all possible angles. He wondered what it was for, what it could do. Schala had come so close to snatching it the last time he had looked it over, having caught a brief glimpse of it herself. Since then, he had been forced to hide it and make the excuse that he had finally decided to pass it over to Gaspar.

Whatever it was, not knowing greatly fascinated him. He was proud of himself for having discovered it. The images were still clear in his mind as he replayed how he had come across the item.

He had only been playing a simple game with Alfador, but one that she enjoyed very much. Using the rubber ball that he had received earlier on, they were passing it back and forth in a short corridor of the royal guest chambers.

Janus rolled the ball across the floor, watching with amusement to see how far it would travel each time before Alfador would capture it. She would take a few moments to paw it back and forth on her own before batting it back toward her master. They continued this for a long while.

But Janus made a careless toss that was much more forceful than intended and it whizzed by so quickly that Alfador didn't catch up to it in time. It rolled underneath a bookcase at the end of the hallway, one thats structure was so low to the ground that Alfador couldn't squirm underneath to retrieve her toy.

Alfador mewed desperately, swiping her paw into the space only to claw at open air.

"It's okay, Alfador. I'm gonna get it," Janus reassured her.

He bent down on his hands and knees and reached in himself, his whole arm disappearing into the small nook. Likewise, all he was finding was emptiness, until his fingers finally curled around an object. It felt rounded, yet it also didn't feel right, for it certainly had no rubber to its texture. Curious, he pulled it out to examine his new finding. What was this?

Alfador meowed loudly, impatient to get her toy back.

"Sorry about that." His other hand dove back under and returned much sooner than beforehand, this time the ball clenched triumphantly in his grasp.

The kitten's glowing eyes dilated at the familiar sight and she lowered into a half-crouch, expecting her master to resume their game.

"I think we should continue this another time, Alfador. We don't want the ball to try and get away from us again." Really, the prince just wanted to take a closer look at the mystery object. So he had returned to his bed chambers, kitten in tow, and kept in his room for the remainder of that day.

He now turned to Alfador sitting on the bed, not having moved from her seat, and smiled gratefully at her. Alfador was the one to thank for having led to finding the object, after all. He pushed the drawer closed and scrambled back up next to his companion as he continued to investigate the device.

One part of it was round, which had been the part he had initially touched when he was searching for the cat toy, but a mini rod protruded from the side. Whatever it might be, the rod was definitely a very important item, for it was embedded with a number of buttons. Janus had no idea what would happen if they would have worked. He had already experimentally pressed a few of them, but nothing had happened. He supposed it was broken, which he decided made it a bit safe to mess around with it.

He now pressed some of them again, making a small game of pressing them each in turn, but repeating the process in a different order each time. Two together here, the next one at the opposite end... A furry paw extended from his peripheral vision and tapped the rounded end of the object.

"Meow?"

Alfador must have thought it to be another play thing, as well. Part of it did resemble the ball, so she must think this to be like her play toy as well, the prince deducted. He laughed as the kitten grasped it in both paws and tried to pull it out of his hand.

"Sorry, Alfador, but this is my toy."

Yet he allowed her to continue to try and wrest it from him ineffectually.

"Janus?"

He could hear his sister calling from the next room across the hall. _Not good._ If she came in right now, she would undoubtedly discover that he had lied about giving the device to Gaspar. Hopping down from the bed, he hurriedly put the item back into its hiding place in the bottom of the drawer. He would take it out again later.

xxxxxxxxxx

The Fiendlord woke from his nap to an unexpected noise. Since he had just stirred from his sleep, he inferred that it must have just been his imagination. Regardless, had he heard it right? An uneasy feeling began to take root in his stomach.

Something wasn't right. For some odd reason, he felt that there was something that he had missed. Sighing, he stood up and headed to the closet to retrieve his cloak, but stopped dead in his tracks as he stared at the door. Or rather, what was underneath it.

_No, it couldn't possibly be...!_

The sound that had woken him hadn't been imagined. He had heard right. _But, how? Not here. Please, anywhere else!_ That noise had been unmistakable, something that he had hoped to never hear again while he still lived in this timeline.

Then the strangest thing happened. He heard the noise again, then suddenly what had caught his attention at the door disappeared. Confused, he swung the door open, only to be met by his cloak and scythe, right where he had left them. Nothing else was there. He reached for the cloak and slipped into it, his gaze continuing to linger in the empty space, waiting for something more to happen.

Although he had to wait for several moments, he wasn't disappointed.

The noise came again, a hissing of compressed air as it was expelled, followed immediately by the reappearance of something greatly familiar. There it was, exactly what he had dreaded to see.

A Time Gate.

But where had it come from? And why was it flickering between materialization and nonexistence? He had never seen such a thing happen before. And, like it or not, he had to get to the bottom of this dire situation.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Yes, your grace?" He turned to make eye contact with the prince who strode across the room to meet him.

"There she is!" Janus exclaimed.

Alfador, who had sniffed out the Oracle seated in the back of the library, lifted her head from her paws to greet her master happily. She did not think she had done anything wrong. In fact, she waited for the prince to commend her for having succeeded in playing "hunter" like he normally would.

Janus strode forward and placed his hands on his hips as he watched his pet. "Well, just look at you," he stated to the kitten. "You certainly look comfortable."

Alfador didn't move from her place curled on the Mystic's lap, returning her young master's stare. Indeed, she was certainly content where she was. Magus touched his fingers to the bases of her ears, gently caressing them. Alfador closed her eyes to further express her enjoyment.

"Come on, Alfador," the prince commanded.

Though reluctant, the feline complied, stepping off the mage's lap onto the sofa to be picked up by her master. Janus offered the Prophet a disarming smile before turning to leave. Well, any smile from the prince would usually be considered disarming unless it was intended for his sister or his feline companion. Otherwise, he normally wouldn't smile for anyone. He would meet almost everyone else with either a frown or just plain indifference. Why he would even want to smile for the Oracle was still a confusing matter.

Magus' gaze followed the prince's back as the boy approached the door, surprised when Janus stopped and looked back over his shoulder to meet his stare. There was a hesitant pause as Janus began to reconsider. He finally made up his mind, backtracking to stand in front of the man again.

"Prophet, I want to ask you a few questions." Though the words were statement enough, his tone was inquiring.

The Mystic gave a small nod of his head, silent in his consent.

Janus planted himself on the sofa next to the Prophet, a gesture that brought confusion to his companion's face. So much for a few quick questions, the boy was making himself comfortable to be there for a while yet. "Well, I found something the other day while I was playing with Alfador, and I have no idea what it is."

Magus' ears perked in eagerness. Finally, he was going to find out what had driven Schala to become so upset with her brother the previous evening. "Yes?"

"It's... odd. I don't know exactly how to describe it."

"Let me take a look." He expected the prince to be hiding it in his pocket again, like he had witnessed before.

"I don't have it right now. It's in my room. I want to get some advice on whether I should take it to Gaspar or not. He keeps a lot of strange things that he's always creating, so I've been considering it. But if I take it to him and he's interested in it, I might not get it back."

The Oracle narrowed his eyes. "You don't know if it could be dangerous or not. It's probably best that you don't keep it."

"But I think it's broken. It doesn't seem to do anything."

"It still needs to be looked at." Magus was starting to panic inwardly, afraid that he now knew what it was. He tried to shake the possibility from his mind. If it were true, then it would explain why he had uncovered the disturbance in his chamber earlier. "If you show it to me, I might be able to help."

This seemed to relieve the prince considerably, enough that he smiled once again.

_That's something that he should never have found. But just how did he find it?_

xxxxxxxxxx

He waited impatiently inside his chamber, ready to snatch the device from the prince at the first chance that presented itself. He stood waiting in front of his closet with the door open, his Hurricane scythe now appearing much deadlier after having given it an afternoon cleaning.

He thought he heard soft footsteps outside in the corridor, turning expectantly. Janus entered the room, fiddling with the buttons on the object much to the Mystic's horror. "Janus, don't!" he warned sharply.

Too late.

The Gate yawned open just as expected, its light flooding the entire room with its ethereal glow. Magus turned in dismay to see the prince's expression, taking the opportunity to recover the Key from Janus's hand that was now frozen in place. He hurriedly closed the Gate, determined to make the prince forget whatever he saw. The light had been so sudden that perhaps it had blinded him from seeing the source.

"Are you all right, your grace? That sure was startling, to say the least."

A curious expression crossed Janus's fine features.

"Janus?"

After a moment's silence, the boy smiled in wonder. "So that's what it does! If it's supposed to make things disappear, then why did nothing happen earlier, I wonder?"

Magus cocked his head to the side, wondering what Janus was getting at. "What did you see?"

"A blue light. It just came out of nowhere, and now both it and your scythe-thing are gone all of a sudden."

The Mystic looked back at the empty space, horrified to see that the words were true.

* * *

I know that it's been a while, and I promised to update this sooner. But seeing as how much content is in the following already-written chapters, I've been doing some major revisions in the past few weeks. The chapters were getting way to long, so I've had to replace some events into shorter chapters, thus pushing them even further ahead to make extra chapters. Hopefully, this should be the last time I will have to say that more is on its way and then take what seems like forever to actually post it. I DO promise that the next chapter should be up by the end of next week at the very latest. Please review and give criticism were it's needed for the next chapter, because it finally begins the major plot of the story! ^^ (As if you haven't already figured out part of it already...)


	8. In the Light of the Morning

_Why?_ His fists clenched in his lap, his sharpened nails scraping against his palms. _Why?_ The word kept repeating over and over in his head, as if its constant usage would somehow ease his discomfort. Losing something of minor value was one thing, something that could have been replaced or reforged, but his Hurricane scythe was irreplaceable. It had always been assured to protect him whenever everything else had failed.

The rest of his belongings were now sealed within a hidden alcove of his chambers back at the Mystics' fortress, so he knew they were safe at the very least. Aside from his scythe, he had brought no weapons home with him, making him feel all the more vulnerable.

There was no other choice. He'd have to use the new Gate to go retrieve it.

Yet every time this thought came to mind, he'd start to stand from his seat on the mattress only to halt and force himself back down. Leaving was never a simple task for him, especially now that he had found a time-stream in which Lavos had not yet decimated his kingdom. If he stepped through the Gate, there was no guarantee that it would bring him back to this place where he still had a chance to live alongside his family.

As his former companion Lucca had explained to him once before, time-streams were as plentiful as there were possibilities, or so she thought to have uncovered in her research. If her words were true, then at least one of those streams could potentially be the safe haven that he sought after. He could search for as long as his life would allow, and he might never find the Gate that connected that stream with the familiar ones that his companions had frequented. It was mere chance that he had even uncovered the Gate that had brought him to this now current time. If he allowed himself to follow after his vanished weapon, he was certain that the door to this stream would disappear.

Sighing inwardly, he already knew what his final decision would be. But first, there was something he needed to do. Flipping the cowl back over his face, he stood from the bed and went to open the door to his chamber. He stopped in the hallway and turned back to face the door as it slowly slid closed, staring intently at the Zeal crest for a few minutes before stepping away from it.

xxxxxxxxxx

His entrance into the royal chambers was silent. Carefully, he approached the queen's chamber and pressed against the door, listening for signs of her presence within. Nothing could be heard, to which he surmised that she was out late drinking again.

Since he now had the opportunity, he quietly opened the door to Schala's room and walked inside. His breath caught in his throat at the image that the moonlight projected upon her sleeping face, her features appearing even softer in the pale glow. Almost reluctant to approach, he slowly glided forward to observe her more clearly.

Warily, he perched on the edge of the bed and stared down at her profile, cherishing this sight of her. Her cerulean hair, unbound, framed her face perfectly as it spilled across the pillows and draped down her neck. He reached for a loose tendril nearer to him, feeling the texture between his fingers and wishing to be near her like this forever. That caring, gentle face had been the one that supported him through many hardships, even when separated across time. Hesitant in dropping the hair, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before standing again and leaving the room.

It came as no surprise to the Mystic to see the prince tossing fitfully in his sleep when he entered the youngest royal's bedchamber. At the foot of the bed, Alfador watched her master with her ears and tail twitching agitatedly. She turned her face toward the Oracle upon his entrance and mewled pleadingly.

Magus crossed the room quickly and settled on the bed next to the prince, extending a hand to the child's face. Janus stilled briefly at the contact, yet it wasn't enough to coax him from his nightmare. Soon he was squirming uncomfortably again. Alfador meowed again in protest. The Mystic slid his hand into the child's hair, his fingers gently combing it back from the prince's face. Janus ceased his movements again, his face regressing back into its normally soft features as his body finally began to relax.

With the prince now sleeping with some semblance of peace, he smiled down at the sleeping child as an unfamiliar ache began to pit itself in his stomach. The thought that he would have to leave even this behind was now causing him a greater grief than he had anticipated. Staring down at Janus, he almost entirely convinced himself to remain here at the boy's side. He leaned down to graze the prince's forehead with a fleeting kiss, then hurriedly stood up and vacated the royal chambers without giving it any thought, knowing that otherwise he would have turned around.

It took the best of his effort to keep his mind clear once he returned to his own quarters. Instead, he focused on the hope that somehow he could yet again start everything over anew. Things may have seemed to go well as he spent time in this stream. But so long as even a brief memory of time-travel or Lavos somehow held onto this world through someone other than himself, someone not able to carry that burden as well as he, he knew that Lavos' shadow would continue to overcast his precious homeland.

The demon's seed had already been planted in this stream before he had even set foot here. Ultimately, there was nothing he could do unless he intended to just watch as the incident with Chrono and his friends recurred all over again.

Ignoring these facts, although not turning a blind eye upon them, he swiped the Key from underneath the bed mattress and activated the same switch he had seen Janus experimenting with beforehand. The Gate's open maw greeted him with what seemed to be enthusiasm as its light flooded over him.

"I… I'm ready." His voice hinted at only the slightest of wavering.

He gritted his teeth, stunned that emotion seemed to suddenly overcome him so easily. Was he not as impassive as he had once assured himself to be? What had happened to the side of him that always longed for battle? So many years training to come this far, only to be consumed by his humanity all over again?

Perhaps what he really longed for was to end all of the fighting. Through massive bloodshed, he fought to keep those terrors from descending on the shoulders of others. By blocking Lavos' reign, he might at long last free his family of the parasitic incarnation that corrupted everything with its leeching tendrils. Those were the only people who seemed to matter to him anymore, so maybe it was his fate just to protect them with his entire being.

"If it is my fate to change everything that is to come, then I will rise to meet it. I'm ready." His voice rang out with confidence, and a smile started to pull at the corners of his mouth.

Having finally gathered his bearings to the fullest, he pressed forward into the flows of time, feeling regardless of wherever it would carry him now.

xxxxxxxxxx

He had no clue where the Gate had decided to spit him out, unable to discern any of his surroundings. The first direction his gaze wandered to was the ground, on which the grass was heavy with morning dew. He frowned slightly. Apparently it was earlier than he had first surmised. He again tried to discern his surroundings, though his efforts were in vain against the thick blanket of mist that stretched out in all directions.

Experimentally, he extended an arm and advanced a couple of steps. His hand vanished entirely, followed by his forearm. He stared at the disembodiment that appeared before him, almost reveling at the experience. In a way, it made him feel at home, remembering the early morning fogs that draped over the Mystic fortress on an everyday basis.

As a child completely new to the realm of the middle ages, back when he had taken that fateful tumble across time and was still trying to assess his situation, even then he had found the time to wander down to the shore of the island and allowed a serene state of peace to fill his mind. It had been a constant ritual, an act which was almost meditative in the effectiveness it had in keeping him sane during such trying times.

The mists of those ages were similar to the mists that would occasionally slide their fingers over the edges of the sky kingdom. There were rare days that the blizzards of the low country rose high enough into the sky to grace the floating continent with their clouds, pillowing the pieces of land upon their uppermost reaches. That may have been the sole reason that he had been able to relax despite his unforeseen circumstances. Even in a place so alien to him, there was still something to which he could relate to his home.

Magus refocused on the fog before him, feeling that somehow he should be familiar with this situation. Though whatever it was continued to elude him, like an unfettered dream that vanishes with the first light of morning as one opens their eyes to a new day. He glanced down, trying to make out any semblance of a path nearby, greeted instead with the constant layering of grass that dissolved into the mist. Well, he was going to get nowhere if he didn't try something.

He took a few steps forward, testing the ground for any signs of elevation or landmarks. He could see nothing but the continuing flat expanse of grass, which always materialized a single pace away from any spot he stood upon. An almost inaudible growl of irritation sounded in his throat. This wasn't solving anything either. He immediately began striding forward, an indignant air settling around him as he pressed blindly into the mists.

He had no clues as to how long he traveled, certain that if he walked far enough the mist would thin out eventually and he'd be able to get a better understanding of whatever time-stream he had landed himself in. All the while, thoughts of the middle ages strayed into his mind at inconstant intervals.

Some of them felt oddly comforting, such as when he had first discovered the Mystics' library and had refused to leave it unexplored, no matter the threats and insults the monsters had tried to incite him with. Oftentimes, he would have gone into that room seeking solace in being alone whenever Slash would attempt to teach him how to properly wield a blade, or when Flea would try to criticize him over his seemingly misplaced mannerisms. Royal formalities were wasted on the likes of them, brutish creatures that only sought to bleed the humans out of existence.

These thoughts instantly vaporized as the mist finally seemed to be spreading thin and he could begin to make out more of the landscape. Somewhere nearby, he could hear water falling steadily. There must have been a hidden spring nearby, or perhaps… He stopped in his tracks, now staring straight ahead. Slowly, he started forward again, cautious to tread silently.

The silhouette of a figure stood not too far from him, although at his distance he still couldn't identify any distinguishing features. The form was slender, the proportions too delicate for the being to possibly be male. A few steps closer, and colors started to swim into view, the mists peeling away from the body as he came within a few paces of her.

Magus halted again, this time at the new view of the mysterious person. She was indeed a woman, standing with her back towards him and her shoulders hunched. She was obviously upset about something. He would have to be careful in his approach if he intended not to cause her too much stress. Yet that wasn't the discerning feature that had caught his attention and had caused him to stop as he observed her. Nor was it the slim orchid dress that hugged her frame.

The thick hair that graced her shoulders and lower back, only loosely tied at the nape of her neck, was an unmistakable wave of cerulean, a genetic trait that only carried down through the line of the royal family… _his_ royal family. Uncertain, he lifted a hand towards her in silent appeal, afraid to speak aloud the name that faltered on the tip of his tongue.

"…Schala?" His voice came out in a hushed whisper.

The woman froze for a moment, as if trying to identify his voice. Slowly, she turned to face him to place upon him some sort of identity. "Did you… say something to me?"

She evidently hadn't heard the name he had spoken, yet he no longer needed any guesses at her identity as he stared her full in the face. Though entrenched with underlying sadness, her almond-shaped eyes glimmered vibrantly in the faint light of the fresh morning sun that still had yet to fully break from the clouds across the horizon. Possessing beautiful eyes of such a pale shade of violet, he now recognized who she was, struggling to not outwardly gape at the realization.

This wasn't possible…! She was far too young and pure in appearance to be the woman he thought he knew.

"M-… Lady Alvira?"


	9. A New Dawn

"Lady Alvira?" he repeated hesitantly, waiting for her response.

The young woman's eyes filled with questioning and, though only subtly hinted, curiosity. Pausing to compose herself, she folded her hands down in front of her and slightly tipped her head to one side. "Have we met somewhere before?"

Magus took a brief moment to recompose himself as well, placing a hand across his chest and offering a quick bow in return. "No, your grace. I only wondered what could have brought you here so early in the morning. Judging by your expression, something appears to be ailing you."

Alvira turned away so that only her profile was visible to the Mystic, her face becoming solemn. "You're new to the kingdom?"

"Ah… yes, Your Majesty. I arrived just now, actually."

"Then you have not yet heard the news concerning my husband. Yesterday… he passed away in his sleep."

Magus started, now getting a better idea of the time range he was caught up in. "I have not yet had the time to get myself acquainted with the kingdom, but I have heard mention of the king's illness. Forgive me, your grace, for having troubled you about it."

"It's something that we all must let pass us by. There's nothing you need to apologize for. However, since you are new here, I should at least offer the courtesy of assisting you in your stay. Might I ask you your name?"

Magus was stunned. This woman before him was nothing like the mother he had known in his youth. Gentle, polite and a bit reserved, she was the very polar opposite of the woman he remembered, although he did recall the years prior to the rise of Lavos that she had not always been so fierce and uptight. There used to be a much kinder side to his mother that he did remember, although vaguely. Maybe now he could do something to change that. For whatever unknown reason, he was at the very least compelled to give this unfamiliar person a bit of truth about himself.

"It's Magus."

The young widow smiled and reached for one of his hands, clasping it between her own. "My name is Alvira Zeal, Queen of the Zeal Palace. It's a pleasure to meet you, although I'm still not quite sure about that cloak you are wearing. Could I at least see the face of the person whom I'm greeting?"

What reason was there for him to even wear it anymore? No one in this time-stream would recognize him for who he truly was, although the color of his hair would arise initial suspicion. After a moment's hesitation he complied, drawing the cowl back across his shoulders with his free hand.

"Oh my," Alvira gasped, instantly catching sight of the familiar cerulean hue. "Your hair. It's the same as the members of the royal family."

"Is that so?" He was putting much effort in trying to shrug off the fact. "Until now, I haven't had anything to compare it with."

"Forgive my small outburst." Her smile became contrite and she carefully withdrew her hands from his. "Shall we head for the palace? The sun has already risen a bit higher, so it shouldn't be long before my children wake up. I must go and greet them."

Magus froze for the briefest moment that the motion was practically impossible to notice. "Yes, your grace. I would be happy to start settling in." He trailed behind the queen and matched his pace to hers, his gaze never straying too far from her back.

xxxxxxxxxx

Both stood staring into the corridor as a small girl emerged from one of the side doors cradling a bundle in her arms. Upon noticing the Queen's presence, she scurried towards the pair with an eager smile spread across her pale face.

"Mother, Janus woke up on his own this morning. I was able to keep him from crying by playing with him." The young Schala carefully passed the toddler she was carrying over to her mother.

The Queen was equally gentle in supporting the youngest member of the Zealian line against her chest, caressing the child's hair to keep him soothed.

He voiced a small protest at being transferred from one person to the other, but otherwise settled back into contentment. His wide violet eyes shifted curiously to contemplate the tall, dark figure who stood aloof at his mother's side, and he silently stretched a hand out toward the person by way of greeting.

The man lost focus of everything else at seeing the toddler, unable to define the mixed emotions that swirled within his mind. This moment was indescribable in so many ways that he was at a total loss for either words or thought.

Alvira turned to Magus with a simple smile, a humorous twinkle in her eyes. "I think he likes you," she observed.

The humor that rose into the atmosphere was not lost on the Mystic, but for an entirely different reason. He wanted to reach out to the child in return, yet he withheld to look to Alvira for confirmation.

She nodded in understanding. "His name is Janus. What do you think of it?"

Magus extended his hand for the prince to inspect, a smile of his own slowly creeping into his expression. "It's a good name. It carries its own air of nobility, so I think it fits him quite perfectly."

Alvira chuckled. "My husband decided on it. He explained it to me once. Apparently in his home country, the people revere a number of deities which represent all that sustains life. Janus is the name of the one symbolizing time, he said."

The Mystic froze internally at her final statement. In all the years he could still remember as a Zealian prince, he had never once heard any reference as to the origins of his name. This sudden new knowledge struck him as ironic. Time. He was named after the personification of time. How fitting, he mused silently to himself.

"He wants his son to become a king who will acquire great wisdom and humble himself before his kingdom," Alvira Zeal continued. "My husband once mentioned how he was ashamed of his occasional instances of vanity, and that he would raise a son who would learn to express none. Above all, he simply wanted for his own children to be loved by the people of the kingdom so that they would long be remembered with admiration."

This was also news to the Mystic. "How intriguing," he remarked. His gaze slipped to the girl who was scrutinizing him without any comment up until now. "Your daughter sure is quiet," he spoke, directing the Queen's attention to Schala.

"Oh, my greatest apologies! I became so caught up in thinking about all those memories. This is my daughter, Schala." She now began addressing the girl directly. "Schala, dear, do you have anything you'd like to say?"

The princess bounded over to stand directly in front of the Mystic, undaunted by the usual intimidation of his dark countenance. She folded her hands in front of her in imitation of her mother's earlier response and bowed with quite a distinct grace for one her age. "You haven't told us your name."

Her mother chuckled softly. "His name is Magus, and he will be staying in the palace as a guest. So be mindful of your manners towards him," she gently reminded.

"Yes, Mother," Schala answered obediently. Then, her face brightened as she stared up once again into the Oracle's red-violet eyes. "Would you mind playing with us? It would do my little brother some good to start having friends early."

Magus's eyes widened with both surprise and humor at the princess's words as her mother was quick to gently reproach her inquiry. So it had started even this early into his childhood. Schala, who currently appeared to be no older than ten years at the most, was already looking after her younger brother's well-being. What amused him even more, however, was the fact that she chose _him_ as a potential playmate for the toddler prince.

"Young lady, you shouldn't press such a request on our visitor," the queen protested. She understood that her daughter meant for nothing other than good intentions when having addressed the stranger. But that didn't make it okay for the young princess to force a decision from him, either. For all she knew, his stay would only be temporary. With this thought in mind, she turned to verbally address it. "Do you plan to stay in the kingdom for any length of time, sir?"

Magus hesitated, then slowly nodded. "I've spent much of my life traveling. It would be ideal for me to consider a place to settle into rather soon. I have yet to explore this kingdom, yet it already seems to hold much promise."

"It would be wonderful if you do decide to live here. Judging by your appearance and posture, you could easily hold a position of great status within the kingdom. You give off a somewhat regal aura yourself, and your tall, powerful stance is certainly something to be noted."

The Seer gazed upon the young queen with sudden admiration. "That is a very gracious offer, Your Majesty. Once I have settled in, I'll be sure to give it consideration."

The young princess glanced inquiringly towards her mother. "Please, Mother? If he doesn't mind, can I ask him to play with me and Janus?"

Alvira turned again to her daughter, a bit reluctant, but nevertheless relenting to her query. "That's only if he wants to."

Magus stared again at the youngest member of the family wrapped cozily in his mother's arms. A gentle smile creased the hardened features of his face. "I don't mind at all."


End file.
